"In the beginning"


The views expressed in this blog are not necessarily the views of the blog management, (on the other hand, they are not necessarily not the views of the blog management).

No effort has been made to stay within the bounds of the truth in this blog as it has always been the view of the management that the truth should never be allowed to stand in the way of a good story.

Sunday, August 21, 2005


Old age, I decided, is a gift. I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be.
Oh, not my body! I sometime despair over my body- the cellulite, the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, the jiggly thighs, and the sagging butt.
And often I am taken aback by the old lady/man who lives in my mirror, but I don't agonize over those things for long.

I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, and my loving family for less grey hair or a flatter belly.
As I've aged, I've become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend. I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to overeat, to be messy, to be extravagant.

I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging. Whose business is it if I choose to read until 4 am, and sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 50's, and if I at the same time wish to weep over a lost love, I will.

I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging midriff, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the bikini set. They, too, will get old.
I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten and I eventually remember the important things.

Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when a beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turn grey, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.

I can say "no", and mean it. I can say "yes", and mean it. As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong.

So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day!


Christine said...

At 40, I have been thinking the same thing. I guess as time marches on, we all come into our selves and start appreciating life more and what others think, less. Great entry!

Peter said...

Hi Christine, at 40 I certainly wasn't thinking about time marching on etc.
But sad to say now I do!!!

Marcus said...

Did you write this Dad? With no disrespect intended it doesn't sound like you, it sounds like it was written by a woman. You haven't acknowledged another source so I wasn't sure.
Whoever wrote it, it's good.

Peter said...

No I didn't write this piece Marcus, it was penned by that great writer Anonymous, but like you, I thought it was good enough to get a run.
Unlike you, and many other bloggers, I post a lot of stuff that isn't my own work, just because it appeals to me.

kenju said...

Peter, I have some posts about growing older, and you may also want to read this blog: